


Plausible Deniability

by TheIskra



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 14:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20893295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIskra/pseuds/TheIskra
Summary: Ever so loosely based on a portion of Alexei's book Overcome where he mentions Sasha and Ilia having to bring him to his room after the 1994 Junior World Championship.





	Plausible Deniability

**Author's Note:**

> obviously this never happened.

“Which is your room,” he tries, patience wearing VERY thin. Alexei giggles and makes a comment about seeing someone’s tits. “Jesus, where is your room,” he tries again. 

Sasha is cracking up next to him. “We should steal his clothes and let him wake up naked in the hall.” 

“You’re an asshole,” he snaps. And it occurs to him that he has no real choice. “He’ll stay in your bed.” 

“The HELL he will,” Sasha laughs. 

When he looks over, Sasha is still almost doubled over with laughter. “You’re serious?”

Ilia glares. “You did this. And now we have to deal with it.” 

Alexei drops like a stone in Sasha’s single bed. His eyes are watery and slow. 

“Sleep,” he says, trying to mask his annoyance which is more directed at Sasha anyway. 

Ilia strips out of his clothes and climbs into bed. He’s exhausted but wound up. The lights switch off and he closes his eyes, rolling onto his side. He can vaguely see the outline of Alexei’s passed out body a few feet away. The thumping music from the party up the hall soft now in the darkness. 

He hasn’t slept in three days. Subsisting on soda and coffee and only as much food as his nervous stomach could withstand, he knew that he wasn’t going to adjust in time. The jet lag, the altitude, the pressure of medaling last year and knowing his program wasn’t solid enough to get him there again. He has a month until Nationals. A month to get his training back on track, his mind back in the right place. 

He stiffens when Sasha crawls into bed behind him but says nothing.

“Why don’t you sleep,” Sasha whispers behind him. 

He exhales but doesn’t reply. There’s a shorthand that people in their world have. An understanding of the intensity and the things that are at stake, the pressure that rests on their shoulders. 

Sasha’s fingers touch the nape of his neck and slowly move down his spine. He is too exhausted to fight. His eyes stay on the shape of Alexei in the bed next to them. 

“Iliushka,” Sasha breathes, his fingers moving over his side to his bare stomach. He inhales and holds his breath before tilting his head back. It’s the most brazen thing he’s ever done, giving his permission. For this. Whatever the hell it will be. 

He can feel Sasha settling in, naked against his back. The erection pressing against his ass, the hand moving over his stomach before sliding down. He reaches for Sasha’s wrist to stop him but it’s already done. Sasha’s warm hand on his cock. “He’s right there,” he warns as softly as he can. 

He has had to listen to Sasha beat off every night since they got here. He gets loud. If they are going to do anything, Sasha can’t make a sound. 

“He’s passed out,” Sasha murmurs, staring to press and grind against him. It’s not the unfamiliar hand on his cock that makes him twitch, it’s the lips on his neck. 

He doesn’t press back against Sasha or push forward into his hand. He merely licks his lips and opens his neck to Sasha. This is how it goes with them or rather... how it has gone the last two times this happened. 

Sasha’s lips are thick, his tongue agile and slow. It’s more confident than the girlfriend he has at home, the one who he’s only been able to kiss chastely. He and Sasha only do this when they’re so far from home, so completely away from their lives that they can deny it later. No one saw it, it didn’t happen. 

Unless Alexei wakes up, that is. 

And with that, his body twitches again and he presses back. Sasha’s tongue slides over his skin and he moans. “Shhh,” Sasha murmurs against his neck. For the first time (since the last time), he thinks about what it would feel like to be fucked. He hates himself for the thought, the knowledge that he’s wound so tightly that this is the inevitable result. 

“I’m late I know,” Alexei murmurs sleepily. “I know.”

Ilia and Sasha freeze and watch the form in the bed next to them for a moment before Sasha’s cock slides over the skin of his lower back once again, leaving a warm wet trail. “He’s dreaming.” 

“Shh,” Sasha repeats, taking his lobe between his lips and sucking. 

He bites back a moan, overwhelmed by the heat of Sasha's mouth. 

“If he wakes up, I’m not stopping,” Sasha breathes. 

Ilia exhales, his entire body alight. “Me neither,” he replies, hand slowly reaching back to Sasha’s hip. 

He vaguely thinks about what if Alexei had gone back to his room. How far would this go? Would he push Sasha’s head between his legs? Would he do the same? Would they lie face to face and jerk each other off? Would he have had the courage to ask for it? 

“Gonna come,” Sasha grunts against his shoulder. 

He presses his ass back and pulls at Sasha’s hip, pressing them together even closer. Sasha inhales sharply before biting the skin of Ilia’s shoulder, twitching against him. 

His body could have been anyone’s. Sasha just needed to get off. He wishes he was like that, wishes he could enjoy the simple act of jerking himself off like a normal teenage boy more than he did. 

“Mmmm,” Sasha purrs against his ear, hand moving with more purpose now. “Stay quiet or he’ll wake up.”

Ilia can only nod, his mind starting to swim, to refocus on his pleasure. His eyes focus on the shape in the bed next to them. Partially to make sure Alexei is still unaware, partially hoping that perhaps he isn’t. 

A single bead of sweat moves down the side of his face, the ache in his shoulder of where Sasha’s teeth bit down coming into focus. He turns his head and looks back. The hand he had firmly planted, digging into Sasha’s hip move up, forcing his chest to open, his fingers on Sasha’s neck, the damp hair at his nape. He can’t ask… he simply doesn’t know HOW. When Sasha makes eye contact, he licks his lips and that prompts it. 

Sasha’s open mouth is on his, tongue slipping in and he comes without warning. Sasha pulls over and over, slowing down before smiling against his mouth. “That was nice.” 

Ilia’s brows furrow and there’s a soft exhalation sound from the other bed. His head snaps over and there’s a quick movement, then silence. It’s too silent. Shit, he thinks. SHIT. 

He waits for a moment, slowly pulling his hand back and pushing Sasha’s hand away from him under the cheap and now wet sheet.

When Sasha’s fingers play with the wetness on his back, he kicks back suddenly irritated. “Stop it,” he hisses. 

“He won’t remember… if he saw anything. He blacked out,” Sasha’s voice chuckles. “We’ll say he imagined it.” 

“Shut up,” he mumbles, wanting to get up and take a shower but physically so exhausted that he simply gives in to the sleep that has eluded him for days.


End file.
